


Trust Issues

by Shouting_at_God_in_Latin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shouting_at_God_in_Latin/pseuds/Shouting_at_God_in_Latin
Summary: Natasha wants to be a SHIELD agent but getting a badge is proving harder than she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

Barton sat at the long table with Coulson sitting next to him. Fury paced the floor.  
“You’re kidding me, Barton” Fury said, breaking the silence.   
“If she was going to kill me, she’d have done it by now,” said Barton   
“I know that and you know that but I doubt the counsel will accept that answer.” Fury turned and stared at the large screen on the wall with his one good eye.   
“She wants to be an agent. She thinks she can find a second chance here” Barton pressed.  
“Clint,” Coulson interjected, “You don’t even know her name.”  
“She got dealt a bad life,” Barton reasoned, “it’s going to be a while before she can open up. She has trust issues.”  
“I have trust issues, Barton,” said Fury, “she’s taking that to an extreme.”  
“What can she do?” asked Barton, “there must be something.”  
Fury paused, contemplating. “The Black Widow… of all my years I’ve never seen something like this.”  
Fury turned for the screen and faced Barton.  
“We can’t set her up in an apartment. You need to find her somewhere else to sleep.”  
Barton nodded and smiled slightly.   
“And I can’t just make her an agent.”  
Barton’s shoulders fell. “Then why lead her on if she won’t be part of SHIELD?”  
“Let me finish,” said Fury, “if a high level SHIELD agent is allowed to observe her and decides that she is fit to be an agent. Then I’ll give her a badge. She needs an S.O, someone who can keep an eye on her.”  
Barton sat up straighter. “So she just has to find a shield agent the counsel trusts.”  
“No,” said Fury, “she has to find an agent I trust.”  
“That’s a lot harder,” Barton observed.  
“Then she’d better get started.”

 

“I can’t,” said Coulson as they left Fury’s office.  
“I haven’t asked you anything,” said Barton.  
“I know, but I can’t,” replied Coulson, “I’m on a mission for the next few weeks, and even if I wasn’t, it wouldn’t work as well. I’ve already met her; Director Fury knows I want her to join SHIELD. It wouldn’t work.”  
Barton sighed, he knew Coulson would be too good to hope for, but still, it would be the best option. Widow was alright with Coulson.  
“Yeah,” he said, “thanks though.” Barton shifted from foot to foot, thinking about the awkward conversations that he and Widow would have to have with senior agents.  
“Good luck,” said Coulson, “if anyone’s hesitating and they need a push, you know my number.”   
“Yeah, thanks Phil,” said Barton, “I’ll let you know.”


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha put her head in her hands at the lunch table. A high tech, secret government agency, with billions of dollars at their disposal, and they had a regular high school cafeteria.   
She sighed and sat up a bit straighter, it had been two weeks since Fury had given her the chance to be an agent. And she had nothing to show for it.   
Maria Hill said no, John Garret said no, Sitwell said no, Victoria Hand said no.  
They all gave their reasons; out of the country, too many trainees, no time, not the right fit. Natasha saw through it all. They said no for two reasons: they didn’t trust her enough to come through and really change, and they didn’t want to be seen as the reason why she didn’t. She didn’t blame them. Who would take in and vouch for someone who, only three weeks ago, had been on their kill list?  
Natasha scanned the cafeteria. Barton said he’d be back but she still felt anxious when he left her alone. Of course, she never let it show. Being in anxious situations is what she was built for. She wanted to think that this time was different, that she was finding a new start so she had trouble hiding her true emotions, but her training kicked in like always.  
People passed her table as she looked at her lunch. They never looked in her direction until they had more than a ten-foot buffer. They had all seen the video. Her fighting that drug lord before Barton interfered. They were scared of her. Scared of what she could do.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure stop across the table from her. The figure didn’t sit down, didn’t speak, just stood there, watching her.  
Natasha sighed, she didn’t know what this was but it probably wasn’t good. She looked up.  
The woman standing there wore a dark suit and her hair was tied back. She was Asian, around 45, with a scowl on her face.  
Neither of them spoke, so Natasha decided to start.   
“Yes?”   
The woman said nothing for a beat, then,  
“You need an S.O.” It wasn’t a question, and the woman didn’t pretend it was.  
Natasha nodded.  
The woman wasn’t really scowling, Natasha noticed, she was just flat, almost bored.   
“I’m in administration, my work starts at seven but I get up at five. I’m in building H’s training room 14 from 5:30 to 7:00. My lunch break is two hours but I only take twenty minutes to eat so I’m back in room 14 from 12:30 to 2:00. My work ends at five but I spend another two hours there before going home.”  
Natasha stared. She waited for the woman to explain herself, but she seemed to be in no rush.  
“Okay,” said Natasha, “so?”  
“No one’s going to become your S.O.” she said.  
Natasha bit back a retort and kept listening.  
“So you either never become an agent,” she said, “or you show up in training room 14 in building H from 5:30 to 7:00, 12:30 to 2:00, and 5:00 to 7:00.”  
And without another glance, the woman turned and left.   
Natasha sat at her table for a long time, trying to understand what had happened.  
Barton eventually came back to the table. He sat down across from her and looked up.  
“Hey what’s up?” he asked.  
“I think,” she replied, “I just found an S.O.”

 

“Who was she?” Barton asked.  
“I don’t know,” she said, “she didn’t say. Apparently she works in administration.”  
Natasha described the woman.  
“Sounds like the Cavalry,” said Barton.  
“Who?”  
“Melinda May, she got the nick-name the Cavalry a few months ago, when she was still a field agent,” Barton explained.  
“Why isn’t she anymore?” asked Natasha.  
Barton shrugged his shoulders.  
“Not sure. People say she’s got PTSD from her last mission. A team being led by her and Coulson were tracking down a woman with superpowers, apparently the woman became hostile and it resulted in everyone but her and Coulson being held hostage by about thirty rebels who worshiped the woman. The cavalry went in without a weapon and killed all thirty guys and the powered woman. All the SHIELD agents got out, but she never went back into the field.”  
“And now she wants to be my S.O?” asked Natasha.  
“Apparently.” Barton was quiet for a moment, then, “This might work better than the people we’ve been asking.”  
“Yeah?” asked Natasha.  
Barton nodded. “The cavalry is less likely to lie. If she really thinks you’re being fake, she’ll just tell Fury, which means if she recommends you as an agent… well I doubt Fury will say no to her.”   
Natasha glanced around the cafeteria, the cavalry was nowhere to be seen.  
“What, exactly is an S.O?” asked Natasha.  
“Supervising Officer. They train you, teach you how to fight, etcetera.”  
Natasha snorted.  
“Just fake it,” said Barton, “I know you won’t actually learn anything.”  
Natasha turned back to her food and said nothing else.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha walked into training room 14 at 5:35 the next day. Melinda May stood in the center of the room on a mat with her back to Natasha, hitting a punching bag.   
She took a few steps inside. There were a few other bags hanging from the ceiling and a bench next to the mat. A room for simple martial arts and brawls, open to anyone.  
Melinda May glanced over her shoulder and nodded to the bench. On the bench was a role of boxing tape.  
Natasha wrapped her wrists and knuckles. She wasn’t sure how to apply the tape. She never used a punching bag in the Red Room, and you didn’t have tape on missions, so they never gave them tape in lessons.  
She walked over to the bag and punched it a few times. Again, this was new to Natasha. Men threw punches, the girls in the red room were trained to use anything but their fists. Jabs to the throat, kicks to the groan, elbows to the face or stomach. They knew how to punch theoretically, but that was only from watching their male teachers. Punching was a mans game, women who fought men had to use different techniques.  
“So,” she said, “you’re supposed to teach me how to fight?”  
May gave her a side glance that mirrored how Natasha felt on the subject.   
Natasha nodded, at least they were on the same page on that subject.   
Natasha didn’t speak again for a while after that. She focused on the punching bag. What was she supposed to gain from this? She didn’t know. Not that it mattered.  
Hours crawled by. Natasha seemed to be punching just as well as Melinda May, maybe a bit off form.   
Suddenly Melinda May stopped punching and unraveled the tape. Natasha turned to look at her, waiting for her to say something. May put her tape into her gym bag and, without a glance to Natasha, left.  
Natasha stood there, a bit confused, and then finally unwrapped her hands and left.

“How did it go?” asked Barton when they met at lunch before Natasha’s second “lesson” with May.  
“Uh—interesting,” Natasha responded.  
“What do you mean?” asked Barton, looking concerned, “What did she say?”  
“Nothing,” said Natasha.  
“What?”  
“She didn’t say a word the entire time.”  
Barton furrowed his brow.   
“Well I wish I could say I’m surprised,” he said, “but that pretty much fits her character description.”   
“How am I supposed to prove that I can be a good agent if she doesn’t talk to me?”  
“She’ll talk,” he assured her, “she might just want to see if you’ll keep coming back.”  
Barton glanced at his watch and stood.   
“I should go,” he said, “good luck.”  
Then he gave her one of those smiles. The smile that sucked Natasha into SHIELD. The one that had no double. The first smile ever aimed at her that did not hide a threat or thoughts of getting her in bed. Just a plain, brilliant smile that made Barton’s face glow and said “you have nothing to prove with me, do what you want, I already know it will be right.”  
That smile was the only thing that got her back down to training room 14 at 12:30 that afternoon.


	4. Chapter 4

Melinda May did not speak during their second training session either. Luckily, that one was shorter. Natasha scowled at a wall for the hours between “lessons” and at 4:59 she stalked down to training room 14. Melinda May was already there, hitting the punching bag as usual.   
Natasha wrapped her hands with the same tape as before and hit the bag a few times. She clenched her jaw and bit back questions. Natasha was patient, she could wait for days for targets to finally give in. She once spent a month with a guy, flirting and pretending to be stupid, just to learn the first name of the man he bought a beer for three months earlier. The problem with these “lessons”, Natasha realized, was the fact that she didn’t know the end game. Did Melinda May have her own agenda? Was she trying to use Natasha? Was she planning to pretend that they were actually doing things? Or did she think this random punching was actually helping? The Cavalry was keeping her in the dark, and Natasha didn’t like being in the dark.  
Thud, thud, thud.   
How was this helping her get a badge? What could this possibly be teaching her? Natasha decided that she hated Melinda May. There was no way she was a real person. No person could stay this quiet for this long, she thought. She was like no one Natasha had ever met. People liked to talk, even the most introverted and shy spoke when there was nothing else to do. That was where Natasha really thrived; not in a fight, but in a conversation. No matter what the conversation was, Natasha was always in control, she always had steady footing. That was what Melinda May was doing, she realized, she was taking away Natasha’s control.   
Thud… Thud… Thud…  
The bag was annoying her too. The harder she hit, the further the bag swung away, which meant the less frequently she could hit it. It also meant she needed to stabilize it after almost every hit unless she used less force. Natasha was angry, she wanted to use more force. People found this satisfying? If anything it was a huge annoyance and was nothing like hitting actual people (who very rarely swung back after Natasha hit them).  
Thud…Clank… Thud…  
Natasha started having childish thoughts about which was the better name: Black Widow or The Cavalry.  
Thud…Thud  
Natasha stopped and looked at her S.O. She had stopped punching at was looking at Natasha with that board face that never seemed to go away.  
“Your hands are taped wrong,” she said in a monotone.   
Natasha looked down at her hands. She wasn’t surprised, she basically wrapped the tape around her palm and knuckles a few times. She looked like a child who had got into the supply closet.  
She took off the tape and Melinda May showed her how to apply it correctly. Natasha hit the bag again. She didn’t feel much of a difference, but whatever.  
Melinda May went back over to her own punching bag. Natasha was afraid she was going to go back into her silent punching again so she spoke.  
“So,” she started, “if you’re not teaching me how to fight what are we going to do here?”  
Natasha regretted it as soon as she said it. For all she knew, the Cavalry was ready to change her mind about helping her at any moment.   
“I’m teaching you how to be an agent,” said the Cavalry.  
Natasha bit back a laugh. Of course, she thought.  
“You mean how to follow orders and stuff.”  
Melinda May snorted. “No,” she said. She started punching the bag again, but Natasha had a feeling the conversation was still open.  
“What do you mean?” she asked.  
“Fury doesn’t want you to follow orders,” she explained. “His best agents don’t. You should know. If Clint Barton followed orders, you’d be dead right now.”   
“Then what—?”   
“Your smart. Tough. Crafty.” Melinda May punched the bag in between each complement, which Natasha found as somewhat passive aggressive. “If you wanted to, you could be the best agent we’ve had in a while. Fury just wants to know that if he lets you go to your full potential… If he lets you off a leash… that you’ll put a bullet through the other guy’s head and not his. And that after you do, you’ll come back.”  
Natasha nodded.  
“And you can train me to do that?” she asked, “To come back?”  
Secretly, that was what Natasha was most worried about. She wanted to be an agent, more than she had wanted anything else in life. But she knew her own mind. She knew how it worked. Some day, there would be a mission, and that one would lead to another, and another, and the next thing she knew, three years will have passed and she would still be out on that mission. Without ever checking in and staying in touch. One day she would wake up and realize she wasn’t an agent anymore.  
Natasha was so deep in thought she almost missed Melinda May nod and face her.  
“I can,” she said, “if you let me.”  
Natasha almost winced. Letting people help her was always a flaw of hers.  
“What do I call you?” asked Melinda May.  
Natasha shifted. “Just call me Widow.”  
May huffed. “That’s a stupid name,” she observed.  
“It’s better than ‘the Cavalry’,” Natasha countered.  
Melinda May swung around so fast, Natasha jumped. Her face was no longer blank and board as it used to be, but instead contorted with rage and disgust.  
“Don’t ever call me that.”  
She said it so softly that Natasha almost didn’t hear. But the meaning was clear.  
“Alright then,” said Natasha, “Melinda.”  
Melinda turned back to her punching bag and for the rest of the meeting she said nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people, I hope you liked it. I'm going to try and add one or two chapters a week.


End file.
